Don't Try To Fix Me (I'm Not Broken)
by littleoldrachel
Summary: "He can quite clearly remember the first time he realised that there was something 'wrong' with him, that he doesn't quite 'work' like everybody else."


**Prompt:** Hi there, I saw on your profile you take prompts and I love the way you write Wolfstar, so I was wondering if you could maybe write a little something about asexual!Sirius and a really understanding Remus, if you're not too busy. It can be magical or Muggle I don't mind. I recently read This Is How You Lose Him by Poe and I would love it if you could write me a similar style fic, but I'm sorry to bother you if not. Have a lovely day :-) xx

 **Warnings** : internalised acephobia, more acephobia, reference to a noncon situation, graphic description of a dubcon situation

* * *

He can quite clearly remember the first time he realised that there was something 'wrong' with him - that he doesn't quite 'work' like everybody else. For as long as he can recall, James had been lusting after the pretty redhead in their Chemistry class, and Sirius had never given it much thought, at least not until-

"Hey Padfoot, who do _you_ think about when you wank?"

"What?"

"Who d'you think about?"

"I...don't?" Sirius says in confusion.

"What d'you mean, you don't?" Peter chimes in, with a laugh. "Everyone thinks about someone, Pads, don't be embarrassed."

"That's- that's not what I meant," Sirius says, and now he's vulnerable. "I don't-" he licks his dry lips, a nervous habit he's picked up over the years "-I don't... you know."

Peter looks utterly bewildered, but James' eyes have widened in understanding, and Sirius feels _awful,_ anxious, _ashamed,_ even,because why doesn't _he_ do that? Apparently, everyone else does it, and Sirius has never even felt the slightest urge to do _that_ to himself, because - well, why would he? But what does that make him?

Different. Weird. _Defective._

Later, in the safety of his room, having had a long and painfully awkward conversation with James about how it's okay that he doesn't masturbate or think about anyone that way, (all the while not believing a word, because James' eyes are crinkled in concern, and Pete still looks _so_ confused), Sirius tries, he really does. But no amount of moving his hand around his groin, no amount of rubbing the sensitive, yet unresponsive, skin, makes him feel anything other than horribly uncomfortable, and _wrong._

Sirius doesn't want to admit that there's something wrong with him. That he's broken, that he doesn't function quite correctly - he doesn't understand why he doesn't seem to feel what everyone else feels. He doesn't even quite understand _what_ exactly he's missing, because he can look at the beautiful people around him, and appreciate that they are beautiful, but he also looks around at them, knowing without a trace of doubt that the idea of doing anything more than possibly kissing them, is entirely repulsive to him. There has never even been a trace of desire, and yet a small part of him _longs_ to feel that, even though the idea is so foreign and uncomfortable to him.

One day - one excruciatingly awkward day - he plucks up the courage to ask James what exactly it is that he's missing. And James stutters and flushes, but eventually gets out that it's like a warm coiling in the pit of his belly, and a desire that causes his dick to stiffen uncontrollably, and a tingling up and down his spine, but it's so much _more_ than that too - apparently - it's an unconscious, natural _want,_ a _need_ almost. And with every word (every, well-meant word), it hammers in a little more the notion that there's something oh-so-wrong with Sirius.

And at first, it's hard. It's really fucking hard, because there are nights when Sirius curses himself and his brokenness, and sobs, and prays that God will give him this _thing_ that he's apparently missing - _all_ he wants, is to feel like he's normal - and it never happens, nothing ever changes, and he is still broken.

But then, Sirius learns. He learns how to pretend to enjoy the appreciative glances that his peers are giving him, and how to resist the urge to shudder whenever a hand slides a little too far up his leg. He forces smiles, and returns winks, and painstakingly copies James when he's flirting with ladies at the bar, until he's become something of an expert. He learns what is expected of him, but he never _feels_ what it is that is expected of him, only knows that it is significant, and that without it, he isn't complete; he's _broken._

It's a lonely life. He makes excuses - his dates amount to nothing, the little lies he tells gradually build up over time, and he still doesn't feel it.

But it's okay.

It's better than that unpleasant, uncomfortable sensation he feels at the very thought of doing something even remotely _sexual._

And so, it's okay.

(At least that's what he tells himself, every morning as he shaves in the bathroom mirror, and every evening, in his reflection in the bus window on his way home from work).

It's a little harder to convince himself that it's okay, when he sees the casual ease with which James and Peter and all of his friends (in fact, the whole damn world) interact with their other halves - the relaxed forehead and corner-of-mouth kisses, the comfortable and protective arms slung around waists and shoulders. Because he _wants_ that, he wants that gentle, loving companionship, he wants it so badly, but he knows that he can't have it. Because to commit to that would mean committing to the full package, and society dictates that sex is the most highly-valued prize in that package. And nobody wants some broken half-man, whose dick refuses to respond to anything - not an image, nor a sound, nor an individual.

And so he's full of self-loathing, and he's tired of being so broken, and he's ashamed and he's lonely, but he's okay.

Because he has to be.

Because there is nobody in the world who can fix him.

* * *

Remus is a friend of a friend.

When James introduces Sirius to his new girlfriend, Lily Evans, she instantly makes it her duty to find Sirius a someone special. And because Sirius knows how important she is fast becoming to James, and because part of him is clinging desperately to the notion that maybe, just _maybe_ , one of the countless men and women she introduces him to, will be the one to _fix_ him, he doesn't resist. He goes along with the dinner dates, the cinema dates, the coffee dates - all of the dates - but it seldom goes any further.

(He never tells Lily about the woman who convinces herself that Sirius must have been a victim of rape, or some awful sexual abuse (and given the publicity surrounding his family's treatment of their children, he supposes he can't entirely blame her for leaping to such conclusions), and for weeks afterwards, he politely declines the invitations to support groups, and all of her attempts to 'fix' him).

(He cannot bring himself to tell James about the man who sneers when Sirius tries to explain that he doesn't _like_ sex, and instead grins and claims that Sirius just hasn't met the right person yet, and tries to force it, and that particular memory still makes Sirius panicky and shaky, and so Sirius represses it, and promises himself that he will never allow himself to be in that position again).

There are certain expectations, Sirius learns, society holds certain ideals that after a given time, _things_ are supposed to happen, and Sirius recoils from the idea of doing those _things,_ and so, the moment there are even hints of wandering hands and suggestive glances, it's over, it's all over, and it's back to Lily's never-ending drawing board of possible suitors.

She describes Remus as kind and a little dorky but adorable and loyal, as a massive nerd, and as her dearest friend, which Sirius understands means that he will suffer should he hurt Remus.

What she fails to mention though, is that Remus is like the sun, breaking through the clouds, that he is pretty, and cute, and handsome all at once, and that he would make Sirius feel like he was whole for the first time in forever.

It's a Saturday night when they meet, Sirius having been persuaded by both James and Peter to go drinking and dancing with them, only to be ditched almost upon arrival for their respective girlfriends. Having drained the last of his pint, Sirius is preparing to leave, before the having mass of sweaty, _grasping_ bodies on the dance floor draws any nearer - he's learnt from experience that dance floors are dangerous for someone like him - with lowered inhibitions and sky-rocketed confidence, people press against him in ways that he just cannot cope with.

He's about to stand and leave the bar, his mind already on his bed, Netflix and a takeout pizza, as he mentally plots the quickest route to the exit that will take him past the fewest drunkards possible, but suddenly there's a Lily in the way, and she's wearing that determined expression that Sirius recognises only too well, and he licks his lips in anticipation.

"Sirius! This is Remus," Lily's voice barely carries over the pounding bass, but Sirius understands, and suppressing the groan (because all he wants right now is to go home, he is _so_ tired), he turns to smile at the stranger.

And then-

Oh.

Lily is beautiful - even in all his brokenness, Sirius can appreciate the way her black skater dress clings to her curves, striking with her bold, fiery locks - but this man is something else entirely. He isn't what Sirius believes society dictates as conventionally attractive - he's a little too long, his limbs a little too thin and gangly, his skin is a little too pale, but Sirius thinks he's beautiful. Because his golden eyes are full of a warmth and a kindness that reaches right inside him and trickles between the wrecked pieces of his soul, and somehow, _impossibly,_ Sirius feels a little less broken.

"S-Sirius," he stutters, reaching out a hand, which Remus accepts with a beam, and that warm feeling in Sirius' chest surges and he cannot stop the smile from spreading across his own face.

Lily has mysteriously melted back in to the dance floor, but Sirius barely notices, because he is full of Remus' warmth, and he never wants to lose that.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Remus asks, at the same time that Sirius blurts-

"I like your t-shirt."

And Sirius wants to face palm, because he is as smooth as glass usually, but there's something about Remus, and his t-shirt is really fucking cool, okay?

Remus blinks in surprise, then lets out a bark of laughter, and glances down at the pale t-shirt he was wearing under the open, green plaid shirt, where the words " _ain't no party like a time lord party. Because a time lord party is not bound by typical temporal parameters and thus don't stop_ ," are emblazoned. "You like Doctor Who?"

Sirius accepts the drink that Remus buys him, and within moments, the conversation is flowing as freely as the alcohol in the club, and all thoughts of Sirius' bed have been chased away by _Remus_ and how vibrant and _alive_ he makes Sirius feel, as he gestures enthusiastically with his hands about their favourite Doctor ("Tom Baker," they say in unison, and Sirius returns Remus' high five with a grin), the monster that gave them the worst nightmares (the Weeping Angels for Sirius, the Flood for Remus, who shudders and gulps down his drink at the very mention of it), and Moffat's anti-women attitude in both Doctor Who and Sherlock. Sirius finds himself opening up about his work, his music tastes, his dreams - he finds himself wanting to share it all with Remus, and Remus _listens._ He makes Sirius feel like what he is saying matters to him, like society's expectations don't exist and he's not expecting Sirius to be anyone other than himself; like he is important and whole and most importantly, _not broken._

Eventually, James stumbles back over to him, announcing hoarsely that it's four in the morning, and he just wants to go home, and Sirius realises with a shock that he and Remus have been sat there for hours. He tries to apologise, but Remus shakes his head, assuring him that he had the time of his life, and slips Sirius a slightly beer stained napkin, with a handful of digits scrawled in the top left corner.

And for the first time in forever, Sirius texts the number he's given at the end of a night, because he thinks that maybe he could be _truly_ okay with Remus in his life.

* * *

Remus' text notification is the sound of the TARDIS, and James comments with a smile that he's never seen Sirius move as quickly as he does when it goes off. The messages comes thick and fast between them, and within a week, Sirius feels like Remus is someone he's known all of his life. He finds himself craving to see him again, because as great as texting is, he wants to physically be around Remus again, and to feel that same comfort he felt in the crowded bar only a week ago.

It's another week before Remus tentatively suggests that they go for dinner together - just the two of them - and Sirius barely hesitates before agreeing enthusiastically. Of course, after he affirms the date, he realises that this is a _date,_ and all of the expectations of dates come flooding back, and this could ruin everything he has with Remus. Sirius will be forced to come up with some pathetic excuse as to why this date can't go any further - _but couldn't they please stay friends, because he can't imagine a life without Remus in it -_ or worse, Remus will leave just like everybody else does when he can't give him what he wants.

But he doesn't cancel. Perhaps it's selfish, when he knows what he's getting himself in to, and that he has no intention of going through with it, but he really likes Remus, and he _wants_ it so badly, that he thinks he can convince himself for a few hours at least that he is whole, and normal, and not fucking _broken._

* * *

The dinner is lovely. Remus insists on paying, despite his shabby clothes and the fact that he clearly can barely afford it, but he is even more stubborn than Lily, and so Sirius lets him, saying without thinking, "I'll pay next time."

Remus' beam is worth the guilty squirm that clenches at Sirius' insides.

But to his surprise, he doesn't have to make an excuse. Remus doesn't invite him back to his home as so many dates before him had, though he does pull Sirius in for a hug, and slips a gentle kiss on to his cheek. Sirius thinks he might explode from happiness, and he wishes with all of his heart that innocent kisses and cuddles were all that Remus' would ever expect of him.

And Remus continues to surprise him. They go to the cinema together and watch the new Jurassic Park movie, and when Remus puts his arm around Sirius and asks in a whisper, "is this okay?" Sirius finds that he can honestly nod that it is. They go ice-skating together, and Remus clutches Sirius' hand as he stumbles around the ice, a mass of uncoordinated limbs, and every time they go down, Sirius is in Remus' laughing embrace, and he doesn't think he's ever been so happy. They pick up coffees together every morning before work, and when one morning, Remus doesn't initiate a peck on the cheek, Sirius plucks up the courage to kiss him first, and they part, blushing and beaming. They make plans to go to Comic Con together dressed as Jack Harness and the Tenth Doctor, and to have Doctor Who marathons spanning several days, and their friends roll their eyes at their nerdiness, but James mentions how nice it is to see Sirius so consistently smiley.

(Sirius thinks that if they could stay like this forever, then he could die happy).

* * *

But nothing lasts forever, and whilst Sirius likes kissing Remus, he soon realises that there are certain kisses that he adores, and others make him squirm in discomfort. There are the gentle, slow ones when they are saying goodbye outside one another's houses, and the tender, loving ones when Remus has just complimented Sirius - which he's oh-so-prone to doing, and Sirius would lying if he says he doesn't love it. But there are also the heavy, passionate kisses on Remus' sofa, when they abandon the Doctor Who reruns, that should lead to something more if only Sirius weren't such a damn good liar, and they make Sirius feel all wrong and unsure, and he knows he should tell Remus this, but then Remus might leave, and Sirius can't imagine anything worse.

And one night, it goes horribly, horribly wrong.

James and Peter have forced him to go clubbing again, only with Remus and Lily this time, and Sirius has a few too many liquors in him, and it turns out that when he's the other side of tipsy, it's actually very easy to persuade him to dance. And so he's currently battling with the tight discomfort in his chest, because it feels _wrong_ and it is the complete opposite of what he wants, but Remus is _so_ happy dancing beside him (and Sirius is amused to note that Remus is just as bad at dancing as he is at ice-skating), and then suddenly, the atmosphere is shifting-

Remus is grinding against him. Alarm bells are blaring in Sirius' head, and he wants to run away, to make his excuses and _run,_ but he knows that if he does that, it's over, and he can't lose Remus. (He knows that Remus wouldn't be behaving like this if he weren't incredibly drunk, at least, not without Sirius' explicit permission, but that is beside the point, because here and now, Remus _is_ drunk, and behaving in this way).

By now, Remus' intentions are clear. It's dark and cool and damp outside of the club as Remus take a hold of Sirius' upper arm, and leads him there. They kiss, clumsy but fervent, under a streetlamp as they hail a taxi, and Sirius is full-blown panicking, even as he calmly tells the taxi-driver his address (Remus just giggles when he's trying to form the words of his own). He can't go through with what he knows is on Remus' mind - he isn't stupid, he knows where this will lead, and so he forces himself to believe that he can make this okay. He can be normal, for once in his life, he can pretend that he isn't a broken piece of junk, and he'll grit his teeth and bear it, and Remus can fuck him, and then he won't leave. He sends a silent prayer to the heavens - not that it had ever worked in the past - that his dick will cooperate for once, or that by some miracle, Remus won't notice that he's not hard.

When he's drunk, Remus becomes extra-affectionate, and he nestles against Sirius side, peppering kisses enthusiastically down his neck, and Sirius thinks that perhaps this would be okay, if only he weren't so afraid of what was to come.

Too soon, the cab journey is over, and he's leading Remus up to his apartment, fumbling his keys, and closing the door softly behind the two of them.

Despite his inebriation, Remus seems to be hyperaware of Sirius' every move. The atmosphere has shifted, and Remus stumbles slightly as he moves towards Sirius, chuckling as Sirius catches him.

His smile fades as he takes in the way Sirius' fingers are trembling, the fact that is face is a little too pale, and he frowns. "Is this going to be okay?" he asks, stroking a hand down Sirius' cheek, and Sirius feels an inkling of hope, because _Remus is giving him an out._

But he doesn't take it.

He doesn't take it, because this is what Remus wants, and he's almost talked himself in to believing that this will be okay, and so he licks his lips, and says, "if it's what you want."

(He can feel that it's what Remus wants; his erection is pressing in to Sirius hip, but Sirius has carefully positioned himself so that Remus won't feel Sirius' soft, useless dick).

"Is it what you want?" Remus returns, a little more urgently, but instead of answering, Sirius takes a breath, and untangles their hands, and leans up to kiss Remus, gently at first, and it's okay, it's going to be okay, even if what will follow isn't okay and will never be okay, but has to be anyway, because Sirius adores Remus. He adores him enough to suffer through this, and so much more, if it's what Remus wants.

The kiss deepens, and they're moving backwards, and Sirius does his best to return the same passion with which Remus is kissing him, as his mouth travels down his neck, pausing at the collar of his shirt to ask permission to unbutton his shirt. Sirius nods, and Remus deftly strips him of his top, and now Sirius is half-naked, and ever so vulnerable, as Remus brushes his nipples with his fingers, and Sirius is sure that he should feel something, but he doesn't - of course he doesn't, he never does. His knees buckle as they hit the bed, and then Remus is on top of him, grinding against him again, and Remus' hardness is daunting against Sirius' softness, but then Remus pauses, asking again, "is this okay?"

 _Tell him. Tell him that this is so far past okay-_

"Yes," Sirius murmurs, and Remus pulls him in to a kiss once more, as his hand travels down between their bodies to rub against Sirius' crotch through his jeans.

"You're shaking, love," Remus whispers, withdrawing his hand with a frown, and Sirius panics, because this will be his undoing, so he focuses on the warm, fluttery feeling the pet name gives him, and flips Remus on to his back to that Sirius is now on top - a task made easy by Remus' thin stature. Remus still looks uneasy though, and he catches Sirius' wrist, "are you sure this is okay?"

And Sirius forces a nod, and though Remus stares at him for a long moment, he eventually releases Sirius, who, trying to hide how much his fingers are trembling, unpops the buttons on Remus' skinny jeans, before inching them down his legs. Remus lets out a low moan ( _"oh"),_ as Sirius brushes against his hard member, and then, in one swift motion, he pulls down Remus boxers, and _it_ springs free, proud and proper and so much bigger than Sirius had imagined it would be. He doesn't allow himself time to pause, because if he pauses, he will never pluck up the courage again, and Remus will realise what's wrong with him, and then he'll leave, and he can't leave. But if he sucks Remus, he can keep this fragile facade for a little longer, because that way, maybe Remus won't want to fuck.

So he takes Remus in his mouth, and Remus gasps in a mixture of surprise and pleasure, his back arching, and Sirius grips Remus' bony hips in a way that he is sure will colour him blue later, but Remus doesn't seem to care. Sirius' name falls from his lips in curses and prayers and praises, and his legs tighten around Sirius, and his fingers run desperately through his hair, as Sirius swirls his tongue over the head, before plunging his mouth downwards, taking in as much of Remus as he can.

(Sirius feels oddly detached - he can see Remus' mouth, open in elation, and it feels nice, to be pleasing Remus like this, _Remus likes this_. But at the same time, he is uncomfortable, and still soft in his jeans, and he cannot possibly hope to experience what Remus is apparently edging closer and closer too, if the increasingly breathy moans are anything to go by. And so, he reassesses for the first time, _is this okay?,_ and thinks that maybe it could be, if only nothing else were to be expected, and if Remus didn't find out how badly broken Sirius was, that he couldn't even get a semi up at the sight of his lover coming undone before his eyes).

Remus suddenly clutches at Sirius, crying out in a stream of nonsense that Sirius is incredible, that he's beautiful, that he's wonderful, and that's the warning - Remus' breaths quicken, his thighs tense, and _Remus_ fills Sirius mouth, so thick, so fast, that Sirius struggles to choke it down, but Remus is now sighing Sirius' name as though it is the most precious word on Earth, and pulling Sirius upwards to him, gently pressing their lips together, and mumbling, "thank you, thank you, thank you."

And it's not quite okay, but he thinks he got away with it - he thinks his brokenness can remain his dirty little secret, until-

A hand has found its way to his crotch again, only it's still soft, and Remus pulls back, an eyebrow raised. "Did you finish already?" he asks, one arm still holding Sirius in a secure embrace, the other hovering awkwardly around his groin.

It's the split second of hesitation that gives him away. In the moment that it takes his brain to process that Remus has given him an out, Remus sees the truth in Sirius' eyes, and _freezes._

 _And Remus is going to leave him._

For five, painfully long seconds, nobody speaks, and Sirius watches Remus' amber eyes widen in horror, all traces of alcohol vanishing, and then suddenly he's off the bed, clumsily forcing up his jeans, with apologies rolling off his tongue.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I thought it was okay, I didn't know, _God,_ I'm so sorry, Sirius, I'm sorry-"

And his voice cracks, and Sirius doesn't understand, because Remus should have left by now. Past experience had hammered home that the moment they discovered his brokenness, or he resisted, they left. But why hadn't Remus left yet? Why wasn't he at least angry or disgusted or confused, why was he so concerned, and _why_ was he apologising?

"Can I- can I?" Remus reaches a tentative hand out, his eyes overly bright, his expression wretched, and Sirius nods, not knowing what it is that Remus wants, only that he will give it to him if it stops the tears, that are trembling on Remus' lashes, from falling. Remus strokes a hand down Sirius' cheek, and he's apologising again, running a hand through his hair and clawing it down his neck, and Sirius finally plucks up the courage to ask, in a whisper-

"W-what did I do wrong? Didn't you l-like it?"

Remus inhales sharply. "Oh my god, Sirius, no. God, no. You did nothing wrong, it was me, I should have checked - I just thought, I don't even know what I thought, I just - are you okay?" He steers them both towards the edge of the bed, and they sit down, not quite touching. Remus slumps, his head in his hands, and Sirius is still _so_ confused as to why Remus is acting like he's wronged Sirius, when _Sirius_ is the one who's broken.

"Please tell me honestly, are you okay?"

And Sirius frowns, and reaches a hand towards Remus, because he _hates_ the sudden separation between them, and says, "yes. I'm fine. I'm okay."

Remus doesn't look entirely convinced, but he takes Sirius' hand in both of his own, and cradles it tenderly, and it suddenly dawns on Sirius that Remus' apologies are linked to his brokenness, and the anxious knot in his stomach loosens slightly, because _maybe_ he can fix this, and Remus won't leave.

"Remus." He pauses, until Remus' concerned gaze is upon him, "it's okay. It's just - I just, I'm not sure how to explain it, but I'm _broken._ I don't work properly, but it's okay-"

"No."

And that single syllable shatters every last hope in Sirius' heart, and it's hard to breathe all of a sudden, like Remus has suddenly sucked all of the air from the room, and he will leave with all of the air, and Sirius will suffocate, alone, and-

"You're not broken, Sirius. You work just fine, and it's not okay, because you," he falters slightly, "you did something that you didn't want to do, and that's not okay."

The air returns with a whoosh, and Sirius can breathe, because _Remus says he's not broken._ "I- I thought you would leave," he whispers, not looking at Remus. "Everyone else did."

Remus makes a sound that could have a been a growl, or a sob, and he's grasping Sirius' hand so tightly, it's almost painful. "I wouldn't have left. I'm never going to leave because of that, not unless you want me to."

"But you wanted it?" It feels like Sirius is wading through honey, like he's so close to the answer, but he's not quite there yet.

"I did," Remus admits, "but it wasn't what you wanted."

"So?"

Remus closes his eyes. "So, I'm sorry it happened. It was good," he adds hurriedly, "but you didn't need to force yourself to do that, just to make me happy. If it's at the cost of your comfort, Sirius, I'm never going to want it."

(Sirius vaguely wonders if he's dreaming, because the words Remus is saying, they sound so similar to the fantasy he's been having, where the two of them are happy, and everything is okay, and there are no stupid expectations, and most of all, Remus doesn't care that he's broken).

He's sort of lost for words, and it takes him a moment to register that Remus is crying, apologising again. "I didn't realise, I'm so fucking _stupid._ I thought you wanted it, or I would have stopped it, I-"

"Stopping was an option," Sirius says, and he means to say it to himself, but Remus hears, and now he's crying harder than ever, and Sirius is crying too, because _stopping was an option._ And Remus would have stayed. And nobody had stayed before.

Soon, Sirius is in Remus' arms, and they're both crying as Sirius sobs out how many people had abandoned him because they wouldn't stop when Sirius had wanted them to, about the woman who had made assumptions, about the man who had tried to force it - Remus' arms had tightened around him then, and he had pressed desperate, loving kisses in to Sirius' hair, whispering how sorry he was, how much he loved Sirius, how he will never let that happen again.

A little while later, Sirius mumbles in to Remus' chest that it was sort of okay, "I liked making you happy, Remus. I've never felt like that before, but it was sort of okay."

But Remus shakes his head. "Sorry, Sirius, I just - it has to be completely okay, I can't let you do that to yourself unless it's totally okay."

"Maybe... maybe it will be, one day."

"Maybe," Remus agrees. "But you understand that it's okay if it's not?"

And Sirius nods, and Remus breathes out, and they sit in silence for a little while, only it's not painful anymore, it's okay, and it really _is_ okay this time.

Something else occurs to Sirius, and he sits up slightly, still leaning in to Remus' chest. "I don't - I don't want you to do it to me. Not ever. I don't need it - I've never needed it, I just didn't want you to leave." He feels Remus' nod, and relaxes again.

"Would you have stopped me, Sirius? If I'd wanted more?"

Sirius shrugs. He wants to say that he would have, but he can't lie to Remus anymore, not now that Remus knows Sirius is broken, and still hasn't left.

Remus takes a deep breath, and then takes Sirius' chin, and pulls it gently upwards, forcing their red-eyed gazes to meet. "Sirius, you have to tell people. You shouldn't feel like you have to do things you don't want to do. You're too - you don't have to pretend to be comfortable with stuff, you don't have to pretend to want sex, when you don't. It's okay. I would still have fallen for you, had I known. I'd just - I wouldn't have let this..." he trails off, gesturing helplessly.

Sirius considers everything that Remus has said, and it's like everything he's wanted to be true for so long just clicks in to place, and it's almost too perfect to be true, but he trusts Remus, and he's sure Remus wouldn't lie about something like this. So finally, he nods. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I think I just really wanted it to be good for you. You deserve that."

"It _was_ good, Sirius. But it's not just about me, you deserve that too, so it has to be about both of us. We both have to be comfortable. I need you to understand that."

Another pause for Sirius to process. "Nobody's ever told me that before. I just thought it was what was expected. And I kind of hoped you wouldn't notice."

"But I did," he says quietly.

"Yeah." Sirius licks his lips, "can I- could we kiss, maybe?"

"If that's what you want," Remus says, only it's different now. Before Sirius had felt the pressure of expectation, the fear of Remus leaving, and now, it was okay.

"It is, I really like kissing you," he says, flushing, and Remus' smile breaks across his face, and the warmth returns, only it's so much better now that they have this out in the open.

And so they kiss.

Remus keeps it gentle, and soft, and it's the kind of kiss that Sirius adores - the kind that makes him feel cherished, and safe, and warm, and when they break apart, Sirius exhales shakily for a moment, then throws his arms around Remus, causing him to fall backwards on to the bed. They lie there, Sirius' head on Remus' chest, a tangle of limbs, and everything is okay. When Remus speaks, Sirius can feel it through his chest, and he loves that, and he thinks that maybe he loves Remus, and that thought isn't terrifying or wrong to him; it feels sort of perfect.

"Sirius, who told you that you had to pretend?"

He frowns. "Nobody, it just... it seemed logical? If I pretended that I was normal and wanted it enough, maybe it would come true, you know?"

Remus sighs slightly. "You _are_ normal, Sirius. Asexuality doesn't make you abnormal, or _broken,_ or anything, it's just different."

"Asexuality?"

"Yeah."

"I don't - what is that?"

"You... you never looked it up?"

"..No?"

Remus pushes himself on to his elbows, and Sirius slides a little down his torso. The rays of light that are neither the rising sun, nor the moon, are streaking across Remus' face, and he looks beautiful. Tired, but beautiful.

"It sort of sounds like what you are," Remus says, and smiles reassuringly. "Which is okay. I have a asexual friend - Alice Longbottom - and she's happy and married, and she and her partner, Frank, only do the things they're both comfortable with."

(There are others. He's not alone. And the realisation is like a huge crushing weight has been lifted off his chest).

"She doesn't like sex too?"

Remus hesitates. "Uh, it's not that simple. There's like.. a spectrum? Like some asexual people just cuddle and that's okay, and some kiss, and that's okay. And some go further, like Alice and Frank do some sexual stuff, but only what they're both comfortable with, and that's okay too. There's no right or wrong way to be asexual, and I don't know, Sirius, it sounds like you... and I - you're crying." His voice, which had been thoughtful, was suddenly urgent. "What's wrong, love?"

"I'm not _broken_."

"Oh, Sirius." And Sirius is beaming through his tears, and he feels whole for the first time in forever, and it's not because someone tried to fix him, or because he tried to be someone he's not, or because he's 'seen the light' or anything. It's because he was never anything less than whole - he was never broken, he was simply different, and nobody had ever told him that it was okay to be different before Remus.

 _Remus._

He pulls him in to a kiss, and it's soft, and free from any kind of expectations, and it's _okay_ , but it's more than okay - it's everything, and he tells Remus so, and Remus beams back at him, and when they finally sleep, it's well past sunrise, but they're in each other's arms, and they're happy, and comfortable, and okay.

* * *

When he wakes up, Remus is gone, and for one horrifying, heart-breaking moment, Sirius thinks that it was all a lie.

But then he smells the pancakes, and pads through to the kitchen, where Remus is busily whisking up more batter, whilst balancing a laptop on his knee. They munch on pancakes (with bacon and syrup for Sirius, and copious amounts of chocolate sauce for Remus), as Remus shows Sirius page after page of information on asexuality, and points out friends who are _like Sirius._ He promises to introduce Sirius to Alice, ("you'll love her, Sirius, she's such a nerd"), and they read through hundreds of quotes and experiences, and explanations about the Doctor's asexuality, until Sirius' head is spinning with information, but he has never been surer that he is _not_ broken.

And Remus stays. He stays when Sirius tells him that he doesn't think he ever wants sex, and he stays when Sirius tells James about his new discovery, and James misunderstands and hits Remus so hard that he breaks his nose. Through the blood pouring from his nose, Remus just smiles and tells Sirius how proud he is of him. Remus stays when they shower together, and Sirius is naked and soft, and Remus just tells him he's beautiful, and could he please pass the shampoo? Remus stays when he wakes up hard, and Sirius is rigid in discomfort, and he slips in to the bathroom, emerging a little later to cuddle Sirius back to sleep.

(And Remus was right, he _does_ love Alice, who cosplays Martha so well that he is dumbfounded the first time he meets her).

Remus stays, and becomes a permanent fixture in Sirius' life. It's a life that has become a lot less lonely, and they bumble along as best as they can. There are twists and turns, but Remus never once pushes, even though Sirius sometimes tries to push himself too far. It's okay though, because Remus knows Sirius better than he knows himself, and can see straight through him, never once letting him go through with something he wasn't truly comfortable with.

Remus doesn't think he's broken, and, finally, nor does Sirius. Remus doesn't try to fix him, because there's nothing to fix.

Remus loves him, and he loves Remus.

And they're okay.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

A few things to say:

\- I'm not asexual, and whilst I've done a tonne of research, I don't know if the way I've written this will come across as offensive or incorrect - that was not my intention at all, so please let me know if I have offended you, and I will gladly change anything that needs to be changed.

\- After some discussion with my wonderful friend Jules, I've decided to leave it open as to where on the spectrum Sirius falls. Also massive love to Jules, they're the best.

\- Remus and Sirius would totally love Doctor Who, nothing will convince me otherwise.

\- This is heavily based on This Is How You Lose Him by Poe (on AO3), which is an absolute masterpiece, and far superior to this, so I would strongly recommend reading their fic (they're an incredible writer, I am so in awe of them).

Please send prompts to my tumblr **little-old-rachel** , or drop me a message on here!

Take care,

xoxo


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